When Black meets Gray
by firefight14
Summary: AU where Allen never got to spend three years with Cross. Where anything outside a city's wall can crush you, where the Black order is more vicious and corrupted, where Allen and his cannon friends met as enemies. in short; Alt AU of DGM set in a universe of my own design/making. I'm aiming for originality here. first ever fic! please lend me your guidance. Pilot.
1. Pilot(prologue)

"You want me, to revive Mana Walker?" The earl voiced from behind the cross of the grave in front of which sat the little reddish-haired boy, legs outstretched before him.

Clouds curled across the horizon, dark and fat, promising rain.

The graveyard was empty at this time in the morning. Not so far away, behind a row of buildings rose the tent of a traveling circus, gold-tinged from the sunrise. Closer, the graveyards single, gnarly tree spread its coal-black branches like a web work of broken fingers. It was cold and the boys breath steamed slightly from his nose, he slumped slightly in his brightly-patterned attire, and made no effort to actively keep warm.

The boy avoided looking up into the Earls distorted face, but nodded, staring at his own gloved hands. Queasiness worked up in his stomach; be it from the grief, the instinctual, inexplicable panic he felt at the sight of the Earls sky grin-or something else entirely-he couldn't guess. Only he couldn't seem to look up. Neither at the earl, not at the elegant cross of Mana's grave. Far too sturdy a cross for the grave of a mere traveling clown-he thought.

"We'll here you go, then! Boy." Interrupted the Earls simpering voice. Something all too sinister had crept into the playful tone, but Allen's attention was more taken by the thing that had suddenly appeared beside the Earl, rather than the man himself.

The promised 'new body' resembled a husk. Constructed of metal, with a star-emblem bearing skull fitted with lengthened, savage incisors, and arms that ended in sword like points, the construction looked anything but harmless. It had appeared beside the earl as if summoned, held within a matte frame. Despite its threatening vibe it gleamed to the boy like a star through clouds. Not trusting himself to speak yet, Allen slowly clambered to his feet and approached it, casting a glance at the earls bespectacled face.

"This will really bring him back?" He finally asked. His voice was strong but quiet, hopeful.

"Like a charm!" Purred the earl, patting the dome of the things skull.  
"I build these to last. A soul confined in one of these is a soul kept forever, and you can spend all eternity-if you're lucky-with your precious father." The impossible grin widened as if laughing at some private joke.  
"I've done all the work, as you can see. Now all you have to do, dear boy, is call his name."

The young clown paused, glancing over the figure. Could a soul confined in this cold, metal container truly ever be the Mana he once knew? It seemed unfitting, somehow... But the longing to see his adoptive father again was so fierce...

"What are you waiting for?" The earl asked, "having second thoughts, perhaps?"

"No" Allen said angrily, clenching his gloved hands, and, quickly before he could change his mind; blurted out the name.

* * *

Hours later, a soft drizzle had found its way to the graveyard, pattering down on the distant circus tent, on the tree, the blood, the mangled remains of a metal husk, and stale footprints of a little boy. A figure in scarlet walked up the hill of the graveyard, growling beneath his breath.

A jagged ivory half-mask covered the right side of his face, and a stylized cross emblem in silver shone on his shoulder. Long red hair cascaded down his back, and his expression was decidedly displeased. Marian Cross glared owlishly at all, then knelt beside the gravestone. A small golden ball untangled itself clumsily from his hair, and floated down on two long, feathery wings, landing in his red-clothed lap and pawing gently at his knee with a hand-like protrusion. Its eyeless face turned towards the blood, and it twitched its wings anxiously before it looked up at its master.

"It's the vessel, isn't it, Tim." Marian said quietly to the golem.

Timcanpy shook his wings free of droplets, then fluttered down to the nearest blood-stain and patted the ground beside it.

"Yes he's run away." Growled the exorcist. "And there's not much I can do about it now. The bastards've got me on a leash and you damn well know that."  
Tim tilted sideways, then flopped on his belly, hugging the ground.

Marian ignored it, rising gracefully to his feet and brushing off his knees. Timcanpy fluttered his wings in protest

"Looks like he managed to defeat the Akuma he created." Cross muttered, ignoring it. "An exorcist, then? This'll complicate things..." He sighed, then looked up to the cloud-wreathed horizon, where the cloth dome of the circus tent was being collapsed.

The exorcist watched the mass of cloth begin to sink out of sight beyond the buildings for a moment, then snapped for Timcanpy, who eagerly landed on his palm.

"Alright, since the black order is now spying on me like an legion of hungry Akuma, you go guide the vessel." He said. Timcanpy drooped.

"Don't give me that, " Marian snapped. I'll give them the slip in New-England then come visit. For now, just gain his trust and keep him alive. The exorcist paused for a moment with a thoughtful look.

"And one more thing..." He uttered slowly, then reached into the folds of his robes and drew out a ring-bound collection if papers as wide as his palm. He held it to his golem  
"Give this to him, and don't let him throw it away. If he refuses to work for it, bite him."

Timcanpy patted the thick leather cover with distaste and somehow managed to look accusatory despite not having any eyes.

"What?" Said the exorcist innocently, a sharp light glinting in his single eye. "It's therapy. I'd imagine he must be in a bit of a slump right now. Some productive motivation couldn't hurt him."

He waited until the little winged mechanism had flown off, somehow clutching the heavy booklet in all four knobby limbs. He watched it wobble away for a long moment before turning back to the grave, the scarred soil, the blood, and the footprints leading away towards where minutes ago the circus tent had been.

The thick carapace of the skeletal machine had been shorn apart with brute force. Its head lay at the trunk of the tree, star emblem marred by a crater the size of an eye socket. metal shrapnel from its split rib-cage dotted the ground around it.

It's limbs were skewed and warped, sticking from the ground like grave-markers.  
At age eleven, the apprentice clown Allen Walker had singlehanded lay torn apart a weapon designed by the Earl to exterminate humans.

"I hope you knew what you did, Neah, when you took this vessel." sighed Marian Cross, before turning to leave.

* * *

 **hurrah! i guess. XD**

 **it's finally out.**

 **anywho; as i had mentioned, this is my _first ever_ fic in any fandom. and... uh... so...**

 **yeah.**

 **how did I do?**


	2. Chapter 2

Not mine.

* * *

Three years later.

* * *

It was barely light when Allen walker made his way into London, briefly pausing at the pedestrian checkpoint in the cities' towering stone wall. the alarm mounted on the arch of the broad entrance that was flanked by guards bearing anti-Akuma bullet loaded guns. Night was encroaching steadily, and Allen turned to the sky one last time before tugging the black hood of his coat more snugly over his head and entering the city beneath the suspicious stares of the two guards.

Their suspicion was obviously directed at his broad hood, which cast his entire face in shadow, but Allen was not in a mood to deal with people staring at his scar and hair at the moment, so he passed them quickly and barely paused to look around the lit London streets before remembering the map and turning on his heel to jog towards the west end of the city.  
"Curfew's starting in twelve minutes" one guard called after him. He didn't answer.

Timcanpy started inside the hood from the noise and flicked his tail irritably over his ear.  
All citizens found outside their homes during the curfew were to be forcibly detained for two days after disobeying the curfew law. The populace knew to be timely about that. after all, the night law keepers of London weren't known for their lenience on the matter, but Allen wasn't worried.  
If life under Cross had taught him anything-it was how to lie, bribe, and sneak.  
If he met with any un-bribable guards near the West-Wall, he could always simply display his innocence as proof. That would, of course, immediately notify the black order and probably the Earl as well of his existence; but it was a small price to pay for the price of preserving the three innocence he carried with him.

He had walked briskly along for at least twenty blocks or so when the chime of the beginning curfew finally rang.  
 _So soon?  
_ The sound of footsteps on cobblestones clattered from up ahead, and Allen quickly darted into a gap between buildings. This was no time to be apprehended or noticed. He slipped along the passage, silently, shushing Timcanpy when the golem tried to wriggle out from the hood to see what all the sneaking was about.  
There was a dark gaping hole in the wall, and Allen backed into it, craning around its edge to look at the entrance to the main street.

He didn't have to wait long. A few long minutes later, the sound of precise footsteps had grown louder. A pair of men in navy-blue and silver jackets strode past the entrance to the alleyway, quietly conversing among themselves. They didn't even glance in his direction.  
A few minutes later a single guard jogged by.  
Then a trio…  
After waiting another fruitless five minutes trying to figure a way to return to the relative safety of the main street without resorting to kidnapping and stripping guards Allen groaned in surrender and quickly slipped down the meter-wide passage and into the tangled webs of London.

He could see why-despite-the formal curfew, those streets were so rarely seen to.  
different from London's main, they crowded together like eels in a tub, tangling and twisting, and they stunk of refuse, sickness, and death. Allen released Timcanpy to fly ahead with a strict order to not under any circumstances approach any cats, and walked behind it, glancing warily about for signs of trouble. As he walked, telltale signs of Akuma activity made themselves known. The metallic scent of Akuma presence laced the air, long gashes from missed Akuma fire slashed the ground in multiple places, as did the pentagram dappling of Akuma virus.  
Despite all that, periodically, he saw the huddled forms of humans of homeless men and women, glassy-eyed and wiry as cats, though he suspected there would've been more without Akuma scouring the slums.  
It was eerily silent, but Allen was almost grateful for the silence, thinking of all the people that had likely died in this vast deathtrap, forced from the protection of the government and citizens by poverty, and the simple fact of being different.

Two hours later, it was night. No light lit the recesses of the alleys, and Allen was very much unwilling to risk the high streets again. Especially after he passed a street where a Nightman armed with a baton was beating an emaciated man dressed in oversized clothing while three of the nightman's fellows watched, laughing and edging him on.  
they didn't notice Allen as he quickened his steps to pass out of sight.

Soon the vast silhouette of West Wall was towering above him. Allen whistled a shrill note and Timcanpy turned from where he'd been flapping ahead and landed on his shoulder with a flutter of golden wings.  
"Good job, Tim" Allen smiled, pulling his hood down and letting the faint eastward breeze ruffle his hair. The golem's 'face' contorted in a self-satisfied manner and his tufted tail twitched happily.  
"Alright… now to remind myself of where this is going." Allen glanced around to check that no one was near enough to see him, then pulled off the glove covering the warped red skin of his left hand. A stylized green crystal cross was embedded into the back.

"Activate." he said, and the cross flashed. Meter-long, metallic, curving claws twisted outward as his hand expanded. He used the longer reach to gently hook a stone protrusion in the wall and vaulted himself onto the nearest flat rooftop, landing with little pain on his feet. It was cooler up there, and the sour stench of city refuse was all but a memory. Timcanpy flapped after him, and this time, landed on his head. Allen grinned.  
whatever people said, Innocence could be damn handy even when one wasn't fighting Akuma.

The exorcist settled cross-legged on the roof and placed Tim in front of him. The tiny golden ball looked up at him expectantly. He always wondered how it was that Tim could see without visible eyes; perhaps it was an infrared light-sensing system? or he had multiple microscopic optics that worked together to create a single image? Cross had never bothered to explain it to him.  
But that wasn't the most incredible thing about the golem.  
"I need the latest recording Cross sent regarding the innocence plan." Allen said, pulling the drawstring pouch with the Innocence into his lap.  
Tim rocked his body in a nod and gaped open his toothy maw.

* * *

 _I say- does this count as a cliffhanger?_

on a different note-WOFWalker was a GREAT help in writing this.

on yet another note-you've probably noticed some very major differences between this world and DGM world in general. If you have any immediate questions then please comment or PM.

on a third-and more personal note-I'm sorry if it wasn't good. I'm still trying to figure out how to write stuff.

on a... ** _._**

 _you know what? nevermind._

just know that I have no idea when this will be updated. (if you care about such things) My primary interest is art, so most of the time i'm drawing, and right now i've got waaaaaaaayy too many requests going on. i also write/draw personal stuff. Like stories/pictures about seven foot tall bird-monsters. So that takes away time too. ask me about my inner world some time, if you've got nothing better to do.

it'll definitely make one of us terribly happy.


End file.
